cold air in my lungs and the wind blowing against me; i bike to wherever the road flows. tired legs want to rest, and yet i bike on. i remember the hot tea that will greet me when i return, still i bike more.
I dream of sleep; no more work and no worries. Just the crickets singing in the distance and silence. And once I awake I want to travel, to go see new lands and meet new people. Still there is much to learn; and new air to breathe. Where shall I go?